'Ours to Fight For' tells stories of Jews who served in WWII

February 29, 2012|By Donald Liebenson, Special to the Tribune

An unknown photo from "Ours to Fight For: American Jews in the Second World War" at the Holocaust Museum.

Those of an anti-Semitic bent had a definite opinion about Jews' joining the U.S. militaryto fight in World War II. They felt Jews would be physically unfit to serve, that they could not pull their weight and that they would take all of the so-called easy jobs. Statistics offered in "Ours to Fight For: American Jews in the Second World War," an award-winning traveling exhibition receiving its Midwest premiere at the Illinois Holocaust Museum and Education Center, tell a different story.

In all, 550,000 Jews — 11 percent of the total U.S. Jewish population — served. Nearly 40,000 were wounded, about 11,000 were killed and 52,000 were decorated for gallantry. But this exhibition, recognized by the American Association of Museums, is less a celebration of heroism and more about what was universal and unique about the experiences of Jewish veterans.

The exhibition originally was mounted in 2003 at the Museum of Jewish Heritage in New York City. This is the third and last stop. Running through June 17, it is culled from more than 400 interviews that were conducted mostly with Jewish service members from every rank, branch of service and theater of operation.

But the exhibit also includes the voices of African-American (including what is believed to be the first formal interviews with a set of Tuskegee Airmen), Japanese, Chinese, Puerto Rican and American Indian veterans, whose experiences can be accessed via an interactive computer program at the end of the exhibit.

"Ours to Fight For" acknowledges the contributions and sacrifices of Jewish veterans through video, audio and written labels that accompany the exhibition's artifacts, a trove of uniforms, weapons and equipment, period memorabilia (sheet music for an isolationist ditty called "Let's Stay Over Here") and powerful religious artifacts, including the Torah scroll used at the first Jewish service performed upon the liberation at the Dachau concentration camp.

"Jews fought like everybody else," said Dr. Louis Levine, the curator of the original exhibit. "There were, and still are, people out there who say the Jews didn't really fight, and we wanted to lay that to rest. My feeling, though, is that those who want to be culturally ignorant will remain so."

But the exhibition also looks at how the brutality of war affected everyone regardless of ethnicity, religion or cultural background. Jewish veterans, Levine said, "consider themselves to be soldiers, sailors and Marines who happen to be Jewish."

Some of the most haunting quotes from the exhibit have little to do with religious affiliation. Ed Koch, the future mayor of New York City, recalls, "Crossing a field was the most terrifying moment of my life." Another soldier remembers, "I made a point of never having a picture taken of myself with my rifle so I wouldn't scare my mother."

And another recalls, "While you're in a foxhole, (your) helmet was used for bathing, as a urinal, as a commode and to brush your teeth."

Jewish veterans did face some unique challenges in being observant. One soldier recalls digging a side hole in his foxhole so he could hide the light from a Sabbath candle from possible snipers. And many faced pervasive discrimination and anti-Semitism. One recalls being rebuffed with a slur when he went to fetch his replacement for guard duty. "I reached down, pulled him out of the hole and pummeled him."

One section of the exhibit, which carries an advisory for its graphic content and testimony, features harrowing photographs of what the liberators saw when they entered the German concentration camps. "Nobody said you're going to see the worst thing you're ever gonna see, now or for the rest of your life," newsman Fred Friendly is quoted as saying. "No one gave us a hint."

The voices heard in this portion of the exhibit belong to Jews and non-Jews, Levine said, "because at this point, for the most part, the revulsion was universal."

The exhibit concludes with a Wall of Honor containing photographs of the Jewish veterans. Among them is Walter Cohn, 90, a Chicagoan who was born in Germany and was able to flee the country aboard one of the last Kindertransport trains, which took him to Holland. He received a visa to the United States in December 1939 and enlisted at age 18.

"I was accepted by my fellow soldiers," Cohn said by phone from his winter home in Florida. "I heard occasional remarks, like, 'I didn't know you were Jewish.' I'd say, 'Well, did you expect me to walk around with horns?' It was mostly people who came from smaller towns or from the South and had never seen a Jewish person. They were probably surrounded by anti-Semitic attitudes in their lifetimes and had no idea what to expect."

But as a Jew, Cohn was motivated to join the army for one simple reason: "Revenge," he said. "I lost many members of my family. The Gestapo picked up my grandmother, who was 84. She died in the gas chamber. I lost my mother when I was 5 years old, and she had helped to raise me."

Cohn made it a point to share his experiences with his children and said he gets "great satisfaction" from speaking to students. "Most young people know very little or nothing at all (about the Holocaust)," he said. "It's important that we who were fortunate enough to survive be able to pass it on."